


If Only You Knew

by myaekingheart



Series: The Scarecrow and the Bell [8]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Angry Sex, Depression, F/M, Guilt, Love Triangles, Prostitution, Reunions, Rough Sex, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaekingheart/pseuds/myaekingheart
Summary: Twenty year old Kakashi Hatake is filled with many things. Anger, frusration, fear. Like a guiding light, that red string of fate keeps bothering him. No amount of mindless sex can get her out of his mind: the girl who's heart he had broken, his childhood best friend. All he can do now is live with the pain and watch from the shadows. But fate has other plans.(Standalone companion piece to The Scarecrow and The Bell)
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Scarecrow and the Bell [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913203
Kudos: 8





	If Only You Knew

Kakashi kept his head low as his index finger pressed heavy on the doorbell. He hated the static buzz, the rusting gate blocking the front door, the obnoxious red light in the window. _No Vacancy._ He squinted up at it, letting the neon burn into his eyes, before she cleared her throat.

“You’re late, Kakashi” she mused, but the smile teasing her lips showed no signs of malice. With a single nod, Kakashi ducked inside.

It was the same thing every week. She’d answer in a negligee, the satin swishing against her tan thighs. He would follow her upstairs to a tiny apartment. He knew her name was not on the lease. She did not live here. Not really. This apartment was her stage, a carefully dressed set to create the illusion of feigned domesticity. It was all so choreographed and insincere.

“We’ll have to make this quick” she commented, standing in front of her vanity. Kakashi sunk onto the bed, toying with the frayed ends of a pale pink afghan. The foreboding clock, the rug, the sheets: everything was pink. “We have fifteen minutes until my eight o’clock.”

Even here, in the lowest pit he could place himself, he was becoming a bother. Kakashi sighed and tugged his shirt off over his head as she faced him, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder and pouting her glossed lips. She was like a doll: perfect but plastic. Unreal. Existing only to be used and abused. Around her neck was a little gold necklace, her name in cursive hanging on the chain. _Sefure._

Kakashi grimaced, pulling her forward. “Let’s get this over with then” he muttered and together they fell back on the bed.

Sefure straddled his hips, grinding against his growing erection as she massaged the tension out of his shoulders. He was always so tense. She wondered what, exactly, always made him so tense. “You make it sound like such a chore” she whispered, voice raspy with desire.

But was that not what this was? A chore? Kakashi groaned as he took Sefure by the hips, shifting so as to dominate her. She ran her hands down his chest, cupped his face in her hands. He had one simple rule: no matter what, he would not remove his mask. Sefure never understood why. She respected his wishes, of course, but that did nothing to sate her curiosity. He was guarded and she wanted to be let inside. To see him for who he really was, not who he pretended to be. To be the one he allowed himself to be vulnerable with, not the one he released his frustrations on. Her heart ached to know him, intimately and freely. 

Kakashi held onto the headboard as he rammed into her hard and fast. In his eyes, Sefure saw all of his anger, frustration, _fear._ She squeezed her eyes shut tight, biting her lower lip, but it was not enough to contain her moans. When Kakashi was finished, he emptied himself carelessly on her chest and fell back to catch his breath. There was no relief in his gaze, no satisfaction. This was merely a chore.

Sefure paused for only a moment as she watched him, her fingers itching to interlock with his. She shoved away the thought before it could manifest into anything dangerous. She had one rule and one rule only: no matter what, _no feelings_. She was only a vessel. An empty space. An object.

“Here” Kakashi tossed her the pink blanket from across the bed. It landed squarely at her waist in a crumpled pile. Sefure whispered a halfhearted thank you as she dried herself off. Within the pit of her stomach, she felt her yearning rise yet again. “Kakashi…” she whispered once she was finished. He barely looked at her, he was so engrossed in his own thoughts. He expected her to tell him to get out, that his time was up, that her next client was growing impatient. He didn’t want to be a bother. Instead, her voice was much softer. The question, like a javelin through the chest, shocked him. “Kakashi, when we lay together like this, who is it you’re thinking about?” she asked. Kakashi’s entire body grew stiff. She rolled onto her side, resting her head on her hand, adding, “Because I know it’s not me.”

“When does anyone ever think about you?” Kakashi quipped. Sefure dropped her eyes to the ground and frowned. She had overstepped her bounds. She knew she never should have asked. After a moment, he pursed his lips and shook his head. He did not say he was sorry. Rather, he merely answered, “Someone that I used to know. Someone I loved once, who doesn’t love me.” _His Aisuru_. His breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the ceiling, considering. He knew he shouldn’t have said any more but it had been so long. The flood gates had been opened, there was no stopping him now. “A girl who used to wait for me every day, who looked at me like I was the best thing to ever exist. But I failed her. I’m dead to her now. All I can do is watch and wait, protect her from the shadows.”

Sefure rested a hand on Kakashi’s chest, smiled sympathetically. “Sounds a lot like you _still_ love her” she said. Her heart ached. If only he loved her that way. If only he could grow to care for her. But no. No one ever thought of her. She was merely an object.

Sefure’s words rang in Kakashi’s ears, stinging with truth. Grimacing, he sat up and slipped his shirt back on. “No” he said bluntly. “No, not anymore.” Without another word, he slapped the money on the vanity and disappeared into the night. Dumbfounded, Sefure watched him disappear out her window and in her chest, something began to crack.

In his own apartment, bare and familiar, Kakashi washed his face three, four, five times in an effort to get her out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face: unruly red hair, mossy eyes, crooked grin. God, how he had failed her. There was no escaping her. He slammed a fist against the counter, screamed in an effort to numb the pain. It was no use. At every turn, she was there. _Rei._

In a way, he almost even felt guilty. Guilty for being so slimy and disgusting. For laying with a woman he did not love and all the while longing for _her_. Reaching out was completely out of the question. He had ruined her. The lines of communication had been cut. He would spend every waking moment he had left regretting the pain he had caused her, repelled by her seething hatred. He could still her hear child-shrieks in the middle of the street from the day he broke her. _I do have it what takes! I will become a great ninja someday! I’ll show you! I’ll show everyone!_ Kakashi buried his face in his wet hands, cursing under his breath. The rest of his miserable life would be tainted by that moment, that trauma. If he was lucky, his life would not last much longer.

His luck, however, was wearing thin. Every moment he thought it was over, that he couldn’t possibly go on, his mind flashed to his father, his comrades, his sensei. Endless streams of death. Ice slithered down his spine and he quickly backed away from the kunai, kicking himself for being so weak. His pinkie flexed, an inexplicable muscle spasm like someone tightening a string around the knuckle. Another day wasted. Another opportunity missed.

And then there he was, standing in the hokage office faced with new recruits. Their masks were shiny and new, untarnished by blood and dirt. Standing among them was _her._ Something almost palpable began to grow between Kakashi and this girl, something electric and terrifying. They locked eyes for a moment, their stomachs stirring. The weight of the past fifteen years bowed the shelf of his sanity, crumbled and rained over his head. He watched her expectantly, waiting with bated breath for her introduction.

She matched the intensity of his gaze as she replied, “Aisuru. Just Aisuru.”

The minute she spoke that word, something within Kakashi shifted. A barrage of feelings slammed him squarely in the gut: anxiety, guilt, devastation, _fear_. Suddenly it was as if time stood still and they were the only two people on the planet. The masks didn’t matter anymore. They could see through their disguises to one another, their true forms, face to face for the first time in years. After so much deliberation, now that she was here, Kakashi found that he was far more terrified than he had expected. She had finally proven her worth, stomping Kakashi’s betrayal into the dust. His fingers itched to reach out to her, to pull her close and apologize ten million times over but he was paralyzed.

“I take it you two know each other?” the hokage asked. How could Kakashi even answer such a question? How could ever put into words the aching in his chest, the desperation constricting his throat, the terrors every single night of the pain he had caused her, the hunger to be in her presence, to feel her warmth and familiarity and comfort?

Rei answered before he could manage to form the words. Her voice was quick, sharp, unfeeling. “No. Not at all.”

Speechless, Kakashi’s pinkie spasmed yet again. He thought of that dumb fairytale about the red string of fate, of how no matter how tangled it may become, it will never break. He watched her leave that day and in his chest, something began to crack.


End file.
